


[Addendum]

by Insomnia_in_Portland



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe- SCP, Brock is ANOTHER Undercover Foundation Agent, Gen, MORE NONSENSE!, Sequel, What Is Darcy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 10:39:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10012730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomnia_in_Portland/pseuds/Insomnia_in_Portland
Summary: A brief meeting between a Foundation agent and Darcy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Hope you're all well. (How 'bout that Best Picture mix-up?)
> 
> I was trying to gift my darling Dear a fic for her birthday, but it didn't quite work out. Aside from being another SCP!Darcy fic, this is primarily an excuse to wish said Dear, Happy Birthday, again. Heck, Happy Birthday to anyone with birthdays yesterday and today and tomorrow. 
> 
> Anyway, apologies for this. The SCP bug didn't quite leave my system.

The being currently known as Darcy Lewis sensed her visitor when they paused in the open doorway. She remained on her bed, though, feigning sleep. She focused her attention on what she could feel. It allowed her to determine who decided to bother her. 

Jane was not her visitor. She had spent enough time around her old boss to know her energy signature intimately. Jane’s had two moods. When not focused on science, Jane’s energy was a miasma of gold with lazy sapphire and silver sparks floating about in it. When focused, that miasma became a hardened shell with the sparks shining like stars. 

Thor was not her visitor. His energy swirled about him like a hurricane. At times it was a murderous pewter; at others a placid pepper. Tongues of white whipped out from the darkness like mini-lightning bolts. 

Bruce was not her visitor. He had been a frequent one, determined to learn what had transpired in the mountains. His energy rested over him in two shells. The outmost was a wondrous hue of rich emerald. The innermost one was odd. It fluctuated in color, favoring the warm colors of the rainbow. 

Steve was not her visitor. He too had been a frequent one, determined to learn her secrets. His energy was quite nice. It was a warm shade of green apple. This both surprised and somewhat disappointed her as she had hoped his colors would be the expected red, white, and blue. His energy settled over him like a trusted blanket. Bucky, his ever present shadow, never spoke to her when he accompanied Steve. His energy was focused entirely along his metal arm. It was a lovely shade of intense ice-blue. She wondered whether it was a remnant of his old signature or that of the Winter Soldier’s.

Tony was not her visitor. He did not bother to bug her in person, preferring to monitor her via FRIDAY. Still, she could never forget his energy. It was a gaudy shell of ruby with slivers of gold that glinted fabulously. It glinted brilliantly when he was relaxed and outright preened when his genius was in use.

Clint, Natasha, Coulson, Hill and Fury were not her visitors. Her primary jailers were peeved that they completely overlooked her as a threat. As a result, they were trying different ways to force her to reveal her secrets. (Today marked day 5 of using hunger as a tool. It confounded them she was not begging for food. She had no desire to tell them she had energy reserves she could draw on to keep herself going.) Their fear amused her, along with their energy signatures. For some strange reason, all of them bore halos and manacles of hazy inky-black. There were no other colors to add uniqueness. She wondered if being part of SHIELD was the reason for the “hive signatures.”

Having eliminated the obvious choices, Darcy pondered who her visitor could be. She knew from Steve that the newer Avengers were not allowed near her. It was agreed that having Vision or Wanda near her could be disastrous. She could feel her eyebrows draw together. If not a sneak, then someone unwanted. 

She focused herself. Her visitor was standing in the doorway, still and watchful. They made no move to enter, seemingly content to wait for her to wake. Darcy puzzled over this. This alone eliminated the SHIELD fools. Curiosity piqued, Darcy focused on her visitor’s energy. Brilliant eruptions of hue promptly manifested in her mind’s eye.

Her visitor’s signature was a steady river of molten copper. It flowed around them in a smooth current. There were no stray tendrils or tongues emanating from it. It was just a simple band. Darcy knew no one with that signature. Curiosity bubbled high. She opened her eyes.

The plain cream ceiling greeted her as she blinked owlishly. Sighing, she reached a bored hand up and rubbed her eyes of lingering sleepiness. She then heaved herself into a sitting position, shifting to remove any tension. A glance out the window revealed a sky of dimming blue. The skyscrapers were dark monoliths. By her reckoning, she had napped for a few hours. She then turned her attention to her visitor. A sigh escaped her when recognition hit.

“Rumlow.”

“Lewis.”

Darcy studied him. “Didn’t you die?”

Rumlow shrugged. “I did, but the Foundation brought me back.” He looked pointedly in the room. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” said Darcy as she heaved herself off the bed. “Just give me a minute to freshen up.”

Rumlow said nothing as he walked into the room. He took a moment to analyze his surroundings. Darcy’s room was actually part of a two-room suite. The outer one was an interrogation room. It was a windowless, white cube bearing only a sturdy metal table and three cheap folding chairs. Darcy’s actual room was no better. It was one of the rare rooms in the Tower left unfinished and small by Stark standards. The floors were unpolished grey tile, the ceiling a dull cream, and walls lighter cream. The closed grey door in the right-hand corner apparently led to the bathroom. There was no furniture save a simple bed. Rumlow walked around it. The bedframe was a dark metal. A thin mattress and pillow were joined by cheap white sheets. Tucked away was a rectangular window. He walked over to look at it. A quick tap on the pane revealed it was thick. Huffing, Rumlow turned and surveyed the room moodily. He knew immediately that his report to the Council would not go over well. 

His eyes shifted to the closed door. It surprised him that Darcy Lewis was the SCP causing a ruckus with the Council. He remembered his initial impressions when he came across her file during his SHIELD stint. This short, curvaceous brunette had been deemed a perfect liability. She had no skills to speak of save keeping people alive and being in the wrong place at the wrong time. SHIELD saw her as a loose end, nothing more. Margin notes indicated she would be abandoned if she was captured. 

He snorted. He could only imagine the reassessment SHIELD was giving her in light of the Shi’ar Incident. If it was anything like what was going on with the Foundation- 

The door opened, halting his thoughts. He watched Darcy emerge from the bathroom. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Stopping a few feet away, she turned and looked at him. The silence grew into curiosity as they studied each other. Darcy found Brock Rumlow a stereotypical thug in his black hoodie, worn jeans, and heavy black boots. His hood was doing its best to obscure his face, but there was no mistaking that jawline. Rumlow found Darcy surprisingly hale for someone imprisoned by the Avengers and SHIELD. In her baggy white shirt and khaki-colored pajama pants, she looked like a teenager. The lack of makeup and her messy bun highlighted her youth. Her pale skin, though, hinted at a lengthy stay indoors.

After a few moments, Darcy spoke. “What’re you doing here?”

Rumlow shrugged. “Just here to make contact. The Foundation’s getting antsy.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “How’d the Foundation know I was here?”

Rumlow’s lips quirked upward. “There’s an agent embedded in SHIELD’s hierarchy. They let the Foundation know after the Shi’ar fiasco. ”

Darcy felt surprise and interest erupt within her. The former for the fact a Foundation agent had reached the upper echelons of SHIELD without being detected and the latter for who they could be. Yet this revelation raised a host of questions.

“Wait,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “If there really is one of your people here, why haven’t they made contact with me?”

Shrugging again, Rumlow took a seat on the foot of the bed. “All I was told was that it was too dangerous for them to out themselves. They’re pretty well placed here in SHIELD.”

“You have no idea who they are?” asked Darcy.

“Nope. We’re from two different units. The rule is that we can’t have contact with each other if we’re embedded with the same group. In my case, my “defection”- he added air quotes with a lazy hand- “to HYDRA added extra incentive to never make contact. However, the Council’s making an exception. We can contact each other, but another MTF unit is acting as a go-between. How do think I got in here?”

Darcy made to speak until those words sank in. She fixed him a stern look. “How did you get in here?” 

All she got was a smirk in reply.

Sighing, she took a seat beside Rumlow. “Okay, so why exactly is the Foundation suddenly interested in little ole me.”

Rumlow’s head turned slightly toward her. “Apparently, a certain SCP caught our attention after they scared aliens into leaving. They were also around at incidents with exploding heads and spontaneous exsanguination.” He turned toward her more. “The Council freaked out when they realized what you were and what you might do.”

Darcy outright LAUGHED. It was a melodic cackle filled with delight. The idea of the almighty Council worrying over her shenanigans was too much!

“It’s not funny, Lewis!” Rumlow rebuked sharply. 

This only made Darcy laugh harder. She fell back, cackling. Rumlow stood up and glared down at her.

“This isn’t funny!” he repeated firmly. “The Foundation has enough on their plate without you adding to it! Do you realize the danger you’ve put us in?!”

“Do you realize I had no choice,” Darcy replied, laughter still clear in her voice.

At Rumlow’s silence, Darcy pushed herself back up. She found him glaring down at her. She sighed.

“Dude, I had no choice and, if you’re looking for repentance, forget it! I’m not sorry I killed those idiots nor am I sorry I had to break form to stop the Hu-“

“Wait, you showed yourself!” exclaimed Rumlow, “To the Hulk?!”

Darcy nodded. “It was the easiest way to stop him from hurting himself. As for the Shi’ar, do you really think I was gonna stand by and let some bitch-baby aliens wipe Earth out? No!”

“What did you do exactly?” Rumlow asked. The wolfish smile he got in reply had him groaning. “Oh no…”

“It was nothing bad,” said Darcy lazily. “I got an audience with the admiral of the fleets, showed off some tricks, and gently reminded them there are beings far worse than the Phoenix in the cosmos by breaking form and threatening to annihilate their home-world.”

Rumlow wanted to say something. He really did. Shock stilled his tongue.

“The Shi’ar were smart enough to get the message,” continued Darcy, noting Rumlow’s demeanor gleefully. “I have to admit it was nice terrifying lesser beings. I hadn’t done that in centuries.”

Rumlow dropped back onto the bed and buried his face in his hands. Darcy, stifling a snicker, scooched close to him. She leaned over and rested her head companionably on his shoulder. He looked up, turned his head, and glared at her. She smiled widely.

“You are a menace,” Rumlow grumbled.

“I’m a sweetheart, dude,” she replied cheerfully, lifting her head. “If you want a menace, you should meet the others like me.”

Rumlow said nothing. A companionable silence fell. Rumlow stared at his hands. Darcy rubbed her necks, soothing away the lingering kinks. Yet the inevitable question appeared in Darcy’s mind. She did not want to ask it, but knew she had to.

“What happens now?”

At hearing the question, Rumlow stood. He stretched before turning to look down at her. She looked up at him expectantly. Again, he was struck by how young she appeared. 

“I have to tell the Council about this,” he said quietly. “They want you under their thumb, so they’ll probably launch an attack to get you back.”

“Oh, tell them not to do that!” exclaimed Darcy. “Just tell them SHIELD’s thinking of transporting me to some secret facility in Europe for testing. They can grab me, then.”

“How do you know-” Rumlow fell silent when Darcy tapped her temple with a finger. “Ah. All right, I’ll tell them. That’ll definitely be easier than a full attack.” He looked thoughtfully at Darcy. “Y’know, you could just escape. That way, no one’ll get hurt.”

Darcy shook her head. “I thought about that, but no. I’m not gonna give them the satisfaction of acting like a monster. Besides, Thor told me Asgard’ll be on my ass if I try anything else and I like him too much to wipe out his people.”

Rumlow opened his mouth to retort, but was silenced by a tinny chiming. Startled, he reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the device within. Darcy watched curiously as he stared at what looked like a thin blue smartphone. Huffing, he tucked the item back inside his pocket.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“I have to go. Hill, Fury, and Coulson are on their way up.” 

Darcy leapt up as Rumlow strode to the doorway. She watched him peek out into the other room. He took a step into it, paused, and turned back to Darcy.

“Is there anything I need to tell the Council?” he asked. “Anything I can do before I leave?”

Darcy pondered quickly before settling on two things. She turned, walked back into the bathroom, and quickly emerged holding a small red envelope. Rumlow automatically held out his hand. She strode up and placed the envelope in it. 

“There are two things you can do,” she said. “Can you tell your inside-agent to get me some actual food? I don’t trust them enough not to try poison if they give me food again.”

Rumlow nodded. He knew the Council would give her a feast if she wanted. 

Darcy continued. “Also, please give that envelope to O-1. What’s inside is for him. He’ll know who to contact.”

Rumlow glanced at the envelope before shoving it inside his hoodie. “Anything else?”

Darcy shook her head. Both startled when the chiming started again. Rumlow stepped fully into the other room. He turned, placed a hand on the door, and gave Darcy a curt nod.

“See ya, Lewis. Be ready.”

Darcy offered him a small smile. Rumlow quietly closed the door. Darcy stood where she was for a long while. Taking a deep breath, she gingerly walked to the door. She opened it and shoved the door away. Walking into the other room, she looked around. Rumlow was nowhere to be found.

“Ms. Lewis?”

Darcy glanced at the ceiling. “Hey, FRIDAY. What’s up?”

“Are you all right?” asked the AI. “There was an odd power failure on your floor. There were concerns-”

“I’m fine,” said Darcy.

“Good.” The warmth in that word faded with the next ones. “I regretfully must tell you to remain here.”

Sighing, Darcy took her accustomed seat at the table. 

“Agents Coulson, Hill, and Director Fury are on their way.” FRIDAY was gently apologetic.

Darcy said nothing. She just sat and waited.

**Author's Note:**

> If there's anyone new to the whole SCP thing, I suggest checking out SCPs-087, -179, -2127, and -2406. 
> 
> 087 is considered one of the classic SCPs, along with 682, 076, and 173.  
> 179 is a space-centered one that's very well-written. She's one of the rare benevolent beings the Foundation has dealt with.  
> 2127 is centered on the infamous Hinterkaifeck murders. This is a weird one.  
> 2406 is my personal favorite and another well-written one. If you enjoy Jaegers and their mecha kin and ancient Greece, you'll like this one.


End file.
